


All Random All Mid

by Homunculi



Category: League of Legends RPF
Genre: Basically PWP, Dubious Consent, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, I Don't Even Know, M/M, Winner's Choice, this is a whole ass mess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-16
Updated: 2020-09-16
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:00:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26489074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Homunculi/pseuds/Homunculi
Summary: Team Liquid lost a bet, but Jensen is the only one who has to pay for it.
Relationships: Nicolaj "Jensen" Jensen/Søren "Bjergsen" Bjerg, Søren "Bjergsen" Bjerg & Nicolaj "Jensen" Jensen
Comments: 6
Kudos: 31





	All Random All Mid

It was the LCS Summer playoffs, and Team Liquid had just lost 2 to 3 against TSM. The members of TL were upset over this loss for a lot of reasons, but there was one very new threat at stake this time around. Not only did they end up getting bumped down to third, but they also lost a bet. After practicing and reviewing VODS the next day, all of the Team Liquid members made their way back to the gaming house, Jensen heading separately back to his flat. They all waited around anxiously. Something almost more nerve wracking than their team rank was about to be decided. Team Liquid was feeling perhaps, a bit cocky too this season, making their steady climb back up through the ladder. So, amongst themselves, of course, under the noses of their coaching staff, they agreed to a little gamble against Team Solomid. The idea was originally pitched by Doublelift, and everyone thought he was trolling. 

As it turned out, it had been a tradition that various teams sometimes posted throughout the seasons, especially between hype rivalries. It was always kept under the table, though, due to the nature of it. Some teams referred to it as ‘Winner’s Choice’, and the stipulations were simple. The winning team gets to pick a player from the losing opposition, and that person becomes the victor’s slave for an evening. Usually, it involved sexual favors, humiliation - any whim the winners had. Today was the day TSM was supposed to pick their victim. They were all nervous that it might be Tactical, seeing as he was the rookie  _ and  _ replacement for the recently transferred Doublelift. Or maybe it would be Broxah as some sort of sick “welcome to NA” move. It was anyone’s guess.

They all huddled around Impact’s shoulders to read the text from TSM’s AD carry. They collectively all breathed a sigh of relief, all except the one who wasn’t there - Jensen. 

“Who’s gonna tell him,” Tactical looked around anxiously, “I mean he’s gotta go there  _ tonight _ .”

“Rest in peace, Jensen,” Impact laughed.

“Uhhh, screenshot the text and send it to him,” CoreJJ suggested, “ then nobody can get flamed,” he joked.

“I’m just so glad it’s not me, oh my god. I almost had a heart attack,” Broxah’s deep voice resonated in the room.

\-----------------------------------------

Jensen glanced down at his phone as it pinged, opening the text hesitantly. The dread hit him instantly, his stomach coiling into a tight knot. He wasn’t all that surprised he got picked, considering the long time rivalry between him and Bjergsen, but it didn’t make the reality of the situation suck any less. In the past when he was on C9, the few times they had agreed to those bets, poor Sneaky was  _ always  _ the one chosen. So, Jensen had been spared up to this point. Being a mainstay on the pro-scene for so long, he thought he’s seen it all. But it looked like tonight would be his rude awakening. He sighed, texting back all of his teammates in a group chat:

‘ _ I’ll see you in the next life ✌’ _

\------------------------------------------

_ A fair bet is a fair bet _ , he thought to himself as he reluctantly climbed out of the uber. He walked up to the front entrance of the TSM gaming house, and rang the bell nervously. The only shred of hope he had left was that Peter would at least show some mercy for him, them being past teammates and all. With that hope in mind, Peter was actually the one to answer the door. He greeted him normally, welcomed him in. Everything felt “normal” so far, and it seemed too suspicious, but the midlaner wasn’t about to complain. 

“Alright, so let’s commence the torture, shall we,” Doublelift said, clapping his hands together decisively.

_ So much for normal. _

“First things first, we have a special outfit for you,” Peter announced, pulling out a costume that could only be described as ‘something Sneaky would wear’. 

It looked like one of those little school uniforms he’d seen in the anime that Zach was always watching.

“What the fuck is this,” Jensen laughed, looking at it in disbelief.

“It’s a cute school girl outfit, since you obviously have a few things left to  _ learn  _ on the rift,” he teased.

“Ok,” he sighed, “fine, fine.”

He went to an empty room and changed, awkwardly fumbling with the bow on the front before he walked back out into the main room. All of the guys were waiting, to his horror, as he walked out in the uniform. He kept his eyes trained on the ground. They all laughed, snapping pictures of him with their phones and wolf whistling. Except for Bjergsen who was in the corner looking generally unamused. 

“Give us a spin,” Peter cooed.

He rolled his eyes, spinning around to give them the full view.

“Okay, okay. Whatever sick shit you’re gonna do, can we get it over with please,” Nicolaj grumbled.

“What? The night is just beginning,” BrokenBlade replied.

“Sooooo first, let’s see, guys. What should we have him do,” Biofrost asked for suggestions.

“We could always start small, make him clean or something. The house really needs it, to be honest. Free labour,” Spica joked.

“You heard the man, Jensen. Might wanna start with the bathrooms, honestly. They’re by far the worst,” Peter said, grabbing him by the shoulders and pushing him in the direction of the nearest toilet.

\----------------------------

As embarrassing as it was, scrubbing down some other team’s bathroom in a skimpy skirt, Jensen was still hoping that this would be the worst of it. But he had a bad feeling that if this was the starting point, it would only snowball from here. For the most part, the team didn’t stand around to bother him. They went back to their usual routines, playing games and relaxing. He’d only get the odd sexual remark whenever one of them walked by and caught him bent over trying to clean some hard to reach crevice. The skirt was way too short, so even bending over slightly exposed the briefs he was wearing underneath. 

He moved on from one area to the next, methodically tidying up as he went. He cleaned all the dirty dishes in the kitchen, folded all the laundry, made all the beds. He knocked before entering the last room he had left to clean. Sure enough, it was Bjergsen’s room. As he opened the door, the other midlaner eyed him down suspiciously. Soren was sitting in his bed, propped up against his headboard watching something on an ipad.

“Room service,” Jensen jested, “ if you don’t want me here, you have to put up your little ‘do not disturb’ sign.”

“It’s fine, you can clean with me here. I’m just minding my business, rewatching these VODs of me stomping you in lane,” he said smartly.

“Pffft. I dunno if  _ stomp _ is the right word,” Jensen replied as he dusted down his desk.

“You sure have a lot to say, for a loser,” Soren challenged.

“You’re at our mercy for the night. Don’t forget that.”

Jensen stopped to look at him, nervously adjusting the skirt that he still hadn’t gotten used to. 

“Don’t worry. I’m not interested in you as the competition and I’m  _ definitely _ not interested in you sexually. So, you’re safe there. At least from me,” he smirked.

“Lucky me,” Jensen replied sarcastically, finishing up in Bjergsen’s already pretty much clean room before excusing himself. 

His next punishment was a forced stream. In the same outfit, they made him go live on twitch and play some soloQ. On the brightside, the donations were higher than usual, even though twitch chat was just about as cancerous as you’d expect it to be. Most of the guys only asked pretty mild things from him, so it was shaping up to be less of a nightmare than he’d expected. Humiliating, for sure, but at most a minor inconvenience. He had to give BrokenBlade a massage. He had to cook a meal for Biofrost, and he had to let Spica have full access to his twitter account for the rest of the night. However, Peter had more sadistic ideas as the night progressed.

They forced him to get on his hands and knees in the middle of the living room. 

“For each time you died in the games you lost to us this recent series, you get a spanking,” Peter said. 

The petite midlaner tried his best not to give them the pleasure of getting a reaction out of him, as the blows began. They all took turns smacking his ass as hard as they possibly could with a spatula they grabbed from the kitchen.

“Wait, you’ve gotta take your underwear off, man. That’s cheating,” the ADC insisted.

“Are you fucking kidding me,” Jensen asked, annoyed.

“Yup, yup. Take ‘em off. Those are like +25 armor, it’s not fair,” he replied, “need to be nerfed.”

Jensen awkwardly slid his underwear down around his knees, reaching around to pull them completely off before tossing them aside. He couldn’t help but flinch despite himself. It stung extra bad when the hit landed in the exact same spot twice. He could already tell he’d be bruised tomorrow. And who knows how uncomfortable sitting would be for the next few days.

“Tough guy,” Soren remarked, “not even a sound out of you? You were so talkative earlier,” he brought the back of the spatula down sharper than before, watching with satisfaction as Jensen winced in pain. 

The beating probably only lasted a couple of minutes in total, but it felt so dragged out. He stood up and tried to walk it off, wobbling a little as he tried to catch his balance, body reeling from the pain. 

“Hmm, well the only person who hasn’t picked a punishment for him yet is you, Soren,” Peter said, yawning and stretching his arms above his head.

“Gotta save the best for last, right,” he laughed.

“Ok, I think he should sleep at the foot of my bed all night, like a dog, because better mid wins,” he said sarcastically. 

“Oh shiiit,” Doublelift laughed, “good luck, Jensen. I’ll be streaming.”

It was rather late, and Jensen felt worn out from the day’s activities. It might be weird sleeping in his rival’s bedroom, but getting some rest didn’t sound like such a bad gig at this point. Jensen looked away as the other midlaner stripped down to his boxers before hopping onto the mattress. 

“So, I just sleep on the floor or what,” he asked expectantly.

“Hm, yeah, on the floor for now. Maybe if you’re a good dog you can get into bed,” he laughed. 

Jensen shrugged, trying to appear unaffected by his suggestive comment. He didn’t have a blanket or a pillow, but he curled up on the rug and rested his head on his arm.

“I’m super fucking tired, so goodnight, man,” Jensen mumbled as his eyes fluttered shut.

“Night.”

\----------------------

It was probably 2 or 3 AM when Nicolaj woke up, shivering on the floor with no blanket anywhere in sight except the one Bjergsen was sleeping with. 

“It’s fucking freezing in here,” he said softly, shuddering as the aircon blew on him full force.

Bjergsen lazily rolled over to look at him, evidently still awake. 

“You can get into bed, but only under one condition,” he replied slyly.

Jensen folded his arms across his chest, and looked at him defiantly.

“You have to admit that I’m the better mid,” he smiled confidently.

The worst part was that Jensen knew Bjergsen didn’t have an ego. Bjergsen was secure enough to already know he was the superior midlaner. He was doing this just to get a rise out of him, just to troll him because he was in the position to. 

“You act like I haven’t expressed my respect for you before. I’ve given you kudos in at least a handful of interviews,” Jensen scoffed.

“Bullshit, I heard about your interview with Travis,” he replied.

“Haha! What? You think you deserved that MVP? You’ve won it like a million times already. Besides, of course I’m gonna be in favor of Core getting it over you,” Nicolaj defended.

“I still wanna hear you say it to my face.”

“Whatever,” Jensen rolled his eyes, “you’re the better midlaner.”

“Say it like you mean it.”

“You’re the best midlaner in the entire NA region! Omg let me suck you off, Bjergsen senpai,” he said sarcastically.

“That’s what all your fucking TSM fanboys sound like,” Jensen teased, tugging at the costume, which had hiked up his waist during his uncomfortable nap on the floor.

“Oh? Damn, I was about to take you up on your offer,” Soren laughed, biting his lip.

“The uniform’s getting you worked up, huh,” he swayed his hips slightly, flourishing the pleated skirt.

“Yup, that’s my secret fetish. I’m a degenerate who loves seeing guys in kawaii school outfits. Bjergsen’s pornhub history exposed,” he joked sarcastically. 

“Alright, weirdo. I said it, now share the damn blanket. I’m freezing my ass off,” Jensen hopped onto the bed.

“Of course you’re freezing your ass off, you don’t have any underwear on, you dirty slut,” he teased suggestively.

“I’m starting to think this actually is your fetish. Maybe I shouldn’t share a bed with you,” Jensen smirked.

Soren didn’t say anything back, just tossed half the covers over to him. Things were silent, as the two laid there, too self-conscious of each other’s presence to go to sleep. Nicolaj rolled to face the opposite way and Soren half-wondered what would happen if he made some kind of move on him.  _ I mean, it happens most times with Winner’s choice. It happened to me once. I bet he’s sitting there thanking the gods that the whole team didn’t gang bang him, _ Bjergsen thought, letting out a breathy laugh. Jensen twisted around to look at him suspiciously.

“What’s so funny?”

“I was thinking, did you come here fearing that maybe some really raunchy shit would go down?”

“I mean, yeah. I think that’s the first thing anyone would worry about. I remember what other teams have done to Sneaky,” Jensen laughed, “he couldn’t walk right for days. Rest in peace to dat ass.”

Soren grinned.

“You know it happened to me before,” he said, running a hand through his hair.

“Seriously? With who?”

“It was back in 2018, against FlyQuest. That shit was embarassing as fuck. I bet some of those players still have videos of me sucking Santorin’s dick,” he shook his head, blushing at the memory of it.

“I’ll have to ask one of them to dig that out of the archives and send it to me,” Jensen smirked.

“Or we could just make a new one,” Soren shrugged.

“You said you weren’t interested,” Jensen raised a brow skeptically.

Soren smirked, yanking the blanket back off of Nicolaj playfully, and in the process accidentally sweeping Jensen’s skirt up. Maybe he was tired past the point of deliriousness, but Soren caught himself staring a moment too long at the smaller man’s lithe body. His pale slender thighs were fully on display, and his expression was soft and taken aback. The scene felt like something in slow motion. He gripped Nicolaj by the waist, pulling him over until he was on top of him, straddling his hips. He looked away, blushing furiously. It was satisfying for Soren to see him like this, usually so smug, suddenly not knowing what to do with himself.

“You look too cute in this thing. I think the only way to fix it is to get you out of it,” Bjergsen said forwardly.

Jensen shifted a little, his ass teasingly grinding on Bjergsen’s already stiff cock. Soren moaned softly, unconsciously moving his hips up to gain more friction.

“You  _ are _ a degenerate, aren’t you,” Jensen flirted, getting hotter off the power he had over the man beneath him.

“ _ Fuck _ , Jensen. I want you,” he breathed.

“Are you asking,  _ orrrr, _ ” Jensen smirked, looking down at him.

“Not really,” Soren effortlessly flipped them over, now hovering over a very flustered looking Nicolaj.

He scanned every fine detail of the smaller Dane’s light eyes before he slowly leaned in, a bit too shy to go straight in for a kiss. He trailed recklessly placed nips up the crook of Jensen’s neck, gently stopping at the top to bite his ear. Jensen’s body writhed with pleasure, small gasps escaping him whenever Soren hit a particularly sensitive spot. As Bjergsen pulled back to look at him, Nicolaj eagerly leaned up to catch his lips with his own. Their bodies melted into each other as the kiss deepened, Soren’s hands fumbling to undress Jensen, the smaller boy’s legs hooked around his hips.

Once he’d managed to strip Jensen out of everything - minus the knee socks, he pulled off his own underwear, tossing them carelessly aside. The size difference between them was almost intimidating for Nicolaj, but he was so caught up in the moment, that it overshadowed his nerves. His legs shook a little as the brunette paused, fumbling around in his bedside drawer. He pulled out some vaseline, coating his fingers with it thickly.

He positioned himself between Jensen’s legs, delicately kissing his inner thigh, working his way up. Nicolaj’s breath audibly hitched as Soren licked his cock from base to tip, slowly starting to suck him off. Waves of pleasure surged through him. His body stiffened ever so slightly as Bjergsen gently began to force one finger inside of him. He moaned and bucked his hips, fidgeting at the overwhelming combination of bliss and discomfort. Soon, Soren followed up with a second digit, pumping his fingers in and out of Nicolaj faster and faster as his own need grew impatient. 

He sat back up, temporarily leaning over to grab more lube. He liberally coated himself in it before adjusting himself between Jensen’s knees. He pulled Jensen’s legs up, resting his calves on his shoulders as he began to slowly push the tip in. Nicolaj winced in pain.

“ _ Fuck, _ you’re too big,” he moaned.

Bjergsen bit his lip, it took all of his self control not to ravage his petite, perfect body. He grunted as he gently thrust his hips forwards, burying himself deeper inside of Jensen. 

“You’re so tight,” his breath was ragged.

Jensen whimpered faintly, once again trying to brace his hips against the searing pain. To mask the intense discomfort, Bjergsen began working Jensen’s cock in his hand, gradually building up the pace. Nicolaj gasped and panted as the growing desire for more overtook him. Bjergsen was fully inside him at this point, painstakingly rocking his hips back and forth in controlled motions, trying not to be too rough. 

“Soren, I want you,” Nicolaj begged, “harder.”

That was all the permission he needed. The brunette quickened his thrusts, their hips colliding roughly, and his grip tightening on Jensen’s thighs. Nicolaj moaned with each movement, reaching his hand down between his legs to stroke himself. He could feel himself getting close to the edge as Soren’s cock slammed against a sweet spot deep inside of him. 

“Oh, god. I think I’m gonna cum,” Jensen mewled, his back arched and his face twisted in ecstasy as he reached climax, semen dribbling over his hand. 

Bjergsen felt Jensen’s body tense up around him while he orgasmed, which pushed him past his limits, too. 

“ _ Fuck-” _

He groaned loudly and his body shuddered as he finished deep inside of Jensen. He gently pulled out and collapsed on the bed next to him, their bodies sweaty and their breathing labored. Nicolaj pulled off one of his socks and used it to clean up, passing the other one to Soren with a soft laugh.

“Here, a cum sock as a memento of our love,” he snickered.

He smiled. 

Lazily, he snaked an arm around Jensen’s waist pulling him in closer and draping the covers over both of them. That’s how they stayed until they drifted off to sleep.

\--------------------------

The next day, Jensen got dropped off by his uber back at the TL office for another routine day of practice. It was as if that entire ridiculous night had never even happened. As he walked into the gaming lounge, the rest of his team members swarmed him in curiosity. 

“So, how bad was it,” Tactical asked nervously.

“Honestly, it was pretty good,” the midlaner answered, smiling to himself as he took a sip of his coffee.

And that was all anyone would ever know about his time as the Winner’s Choice with TSM.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> I basically did this because my friend mentioned the pairing to me the other day and I was like "ew", but then I thought about it and I was like "wait, this is actually spicy af".  
> This was inspired by several fics I've seen floating around here that involve this whole "winner's choice" idea. Credit to wherever it originally came from.


End file.
